


Guiding Light

by Casey_Wolfe



Series: Easy's Sentinels & Guides [2]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Friendship, Guide!Lipton, M/M, Romance, Sentinel!Speirs, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/pseuds/Casey_Wolfe
Summary: Carwood ran through the trench to the last gun, wondering if he was ever going to catch his breath.  Entering the battery, the presence of Sentinel hit him hard.  There were three of them, but by far the most energy was coming from their commander, Speirs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the Speirton edition of my Sentinel/Guide verse. It’s stand-alone from “[Every Sense of You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8994823),” though that fic does help to set this up.

The plane rocked uneasily beneath him and Carwood pushed out some soothing energy to settle the Sentinels in his stick.  Sitting beside the door, he looked out into the night, barely seeing the inky shapes of the planes that flew around them, the rumbling of engines getting caught in the wind.  If he were a Sentinel, perhaps he would have been able to make out details, but as it stood, it was like floating in a sea of black.  It was disconcerting to say the least.

They were heading into something of an unknown.  Would their training hold?  Would the plan work?  Would they meet their objectives?  Could he and the other Guides handle the Sentinels?

Carwood chided himself, shaking his head as he looked down the plane.  They had trained over two years for this very moment.  They wouldn’t fail each other.  Their pack bond had been forged in the fires of Toccoa, facing down Sobel and not blinking.  In some ways, Sobel had created a monster.

Unlike Winters, Sobel wasn’t a Sentinel.  He wasn’t even a Guide.  Now, Carwood wasn’t one to judge.  He didn’t think that made the man incapable.  No, Sobel had done that to himself.

One would have thought when the military tried to recruit as many Sentinels - and by extension, Guides - as they could, that they would have also given them leaders that at least knew how to handle them.  Their saving grace had been Winters, their five-sense Sentinel XO.

Carwood had never met a Sentinel that had all of their senses enhanced - not even while training at the Sentinel and Guide Center as a pre-teen, and they hosted people from all across the region.  It wasn’t all that surprising since only about one percent of Sentinels could make the same claim.  Even four senses was pretty rare, though they had a few of them running around the 101st - their new commander, Meehan, being one.

No, Easy had a mix of three-sense and two-sense Sentinels among their enlisted men - ten of them to be exact.  And there was only eight Guides to take care of them.  In all fairness, there was Buck as well, but his focus was supposed to be on Winters since Nixon had made battalion S-2 and couldn’t stay with them.  Not like Winters of all people needed it.

Winters had proven just how talented he was all those years ago at Toccoa.  It was one of many reasons they looked to him as Alpha Sentinel.  And why they refused to stand by when Sobel attempted to court martial him.  They needed Winters.

In a way, he needed them too.  Carwood saw the way their Alpha’s eyes lit up when they were all together.  Even the day before, when their jump had been delayed and nerves had been shot, Winters had watched over all of them with something akin to pride and paternal love.

Carwood was shaken back to the present.  At first he thought they were hitting more turbulence, but then the heart-stopping realization came that it was anti-aircraft fire.

Growls rose from the Sentinels in the stick, their protective instincts screaming to get the Guides out of danger.  Somehow Lipton, Buck, and the other Guides managed to keep them calm enough that they didn’t outright throw them out of the plane before they were meant to jump.

Not that any of them hit their jump zone anyway.

* * *

Carwood was relieved to find Winters among the darkness of Normandy.  “Sentinel,” he breathed out as they crouched together to talk.

Winters’ lips twisted up a moment before addressing the group.  As they started to figure out where it was they were, Carwood’s fingers slipped under Winters’ sleeve, brushing across the soft skin of his wrist.  It would have been presumptuous of Carwood to do so with another Sentinel, but pack was different.

Winters didn’t mind the contact or the steady thrum of energy passing between them.  In fact, once they got underway, Winters leaned over and bumped their helmets together in thanks.  It wasn’t the same as forehead to forehead, but it would have to do in their current state.

Relief flooded him once more when they found more of their men.  Then he soon realized that three of the four were Sentinels.  It was no real surprise they found each other in this mess, or had managed to snag Popeye.  The problem was, there was only _one_ of him.

“Any of you boys hurt?” Carwood asked.

“Fine, Lip,” Malarkey assured.  “All in one piece.”

“How ‘bout your senses?” he pressed.  Guarnere mashed his teeth and Carwood knew the look.  “Bill.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Carwood didn’t have time to call him on it, as Winters insisted they forge ahead.  Their Alpha Sentinel sent Carwood a knowing look.

Carwood fell somewhere in the middle, where his shields could reach out and brush against any of the Sentinels if he needed to.  Thinking of how he was supposed to handle _four_ Sentinels on his own was rather intimidating.  Carwood knew he was skilled - and powerful - enough to handle two Sentinels at a time.  Three would be pressing it.  But four?

He tried to keep any nervous energy chained down so as not to disturb any of the Sentinels while they tried to concentrate all their enhanced senses on the area around them.

Guarnere froze in the lead with Hall, grabbing the Able Company man and tugging him down.  The Sentinel’s nose was in the air, Toye’s as well.  Something was in the air only they could smell.  Malarkey’s head tilted to the side, hearing something beyond their own abilities.

“Horses,” Winters supplied from behind Carwood.  “Carts.”

They were at a bridge and Winters had them get into position on either side, waiting for the approaching Germans.  Except Guarnere never waited for their XO’s command.

“That’s enough!” Winters snapped, throwing Guarnere back against the tunnel wall.  “When I say wait, you wait.”

Guarnere’s jaw jutted out in defiance and Carwood feared it would come to blows if he didn’t step in to diffuse the tension.  Both Sentinels weren’t shy about dumping powerful, aggressive waves into the air, the energies practically cracking around them.

“Bill,” Carwood snapped, grabbing the Sentinel’s forearm.

Carwood’s energy washed into Guarnere, his muscles untensing like a wave.  At least there was an advantage to one of Guarnere’s senses being touch.  A physical point of contact was good about getting him to decompress and have something to focus in on.

“Yes sir,” Guarnere agreed quietly.  Once Winters nodded and took a step back, Guarnere’s eyes fell shut.

“That’s it Bill,” Carwood encouraged, moving closer.  “Easy now.”

The man was still wound tight - and no one could blame him after finding out about his brother - but hopefully this would help to bring him down a notch or two.  Guarnere and Liebgott had always been more heavy-handed and harder to control.  Even so, the Guides knew how to handle them well enough by then.

“Everyone okay?” Winters asked.

“Sir.”  Toye offered a Kraut rifle from one of the bodies.  Malarkey was at Carwood’s side then with one for him as well.

“Let’s move out.”

* * *

The guns at Brecourt were highly defended and Carwood had problems getting his pack the TNT they needed.  It turned out Hall of all people had appeared out of nowhere with TNT of his own.

Carwood ran for the third gun, spotting Winters and Buck crouched behind some cover.  He practically crashed into them as he slid in the dirt.

“Sir,” he greeted, breathless, “had a little trouble getting through that first field.”

Winters pointed up at the destroyed gun and Carwood sagged.  “They’re gonna need it at the next gun.  Once it’s blown, tell them to pull out.”

“Yes sir.”

Carwood ran through the trench to the last gun, wondering if he was ever going to catch his breath.  Entering the battery, the presence of Sentinel hit him hard.  There were three of them, but by far the most energy was coming from their commander, Speirs.

Carwood had seen him around, though they never formally met.  There was no reason to.  Speirs was in a different company, and an officer to boot.  Carwood was just an NCO.

Speirs paused in his firing to reload, looking at Carwood once he hit the charging handle.

“TNT, sir,” Carwood explained, holding the package up for him to see.

“DiMarzio, blow the gun,” Speirs ordered, one of the Sentinels coming to take the TNT.

Carwood approached Speirs, taking a knee beside him as he went back to firing.  “Sir,” he called over the noise, unsure what senses the man had.  Acknowledging him as Sentinel would have been inappropriate considering Speirs wasn’t pack.  “Do you have any Guides with you?”

He knew the answer already - he felt no other Guides.  All the Sentinel energy was clawing.

“Fire in the hole!” DiMarzio yelled.

Carwood curled inward, covering his head.  The moment Speirs pressed against him as a shield, Carwood gasped, the sound covered by the explosion.  They jumped apart, staring at each other.  Carwood’s mouth was open in shock while Speirs’ eyes widened.

“Lieutenant!” the second Sentinel called.

“Move out!” Speirs ordered, mask of a soldier sliding back into place.  “You too,” he added more quietly, prodding Carwood into going first.

“Yes…   _Sentinel_.”

* * *

He followed Dog Company back to the staging area, finding Easy had made it in one piece.  Well, save for Popeye, who he spotted on a stretcher going towards the aid station.

“Lip!” Liebgott called, waving to him.

“Be there in a minute!” Carwood yelled.  He hated to leave his pack with only Buck to bring them back down, but Dog had no Guides at all.  There was also the matter of Speirs…

“Sentinel,” he acknowledged, feeling the energy pulsing against his own.  Carwood turned to find Speirs standing right there.

Speirs was looking him over carefully from head to toe, his expression unreadable.  Finally he breathed out, “Guide.”

Carwood grinned brightly.  When he opened his mouth, a loud argument interrupted.  The Dog Sentinels were getting into it - with each other, and the rest of the company.

Before Speirs could get involved though, Carwood snapped, “Enough!”  He walked halfway to them.  “You two get over here!”  Both Sentinels were growling and Carwood glared.  “Why are all you Sentinels such bullheaded idiots?  Sit!”

That cowed the pair, doing as they were ordered.  Carwood shook his head, sitting in front of them cross-legged and demanding their arms.  He took hold of their wrists, allowing his own ingrained gifts to help pull them back from the edge.

It took longer than it would have with the Easy Sentinels, but they weren’t used to each other’s energies like the pack was.  No doubt the Dog Company Sentinels and Guides had bonded in much the same way.  When he finished, he had two content Sentinels and Carwood looked around for the third.

Speirs hadn’t gone far, leaning against a wall.  Carwood approached with a smile, noting that the Sentinel’s energy felt mellowed.  He didn’t require Carwood to bring him down.

“You should get back to your company,” Speirs spoke around his cigarette.

Carwood’s brows lowered in confusion.  “But… shouldn’t we talk?”

“There’s nothing we can do about this right now.”

Carwood felt his stomach twist into knots at the perceived rejection.  There was nothing to say, so instead he turned to leave.

Speirs caught his hand, making Carwood gasp as the same jolt went through him.  “I didn’t mean-”  Speirs cut himself off on a growl.

Carwood turned to find Speirs biting his lip.  “Sir?”

“Ron,” he corrected.  “Ronald Speirs.”

“Carwood Lipton.”

“Carwood.”  Ron tried the name on for size, a little twist to his lips.  He looked away awkwardly then.  “What I _meant_ was that this isn’t really the place for a bonding.  And trying to talk about it now…  We don’t have the time.”

For some reason that made Carwood’s insides do a flip in a good way.  “So, you felt it too?” he checked all the same.

“I did.”  Ron looked back at him then.  “You’re my Guide.  Honestly, I never expected to find you.  It might take me a while to get used to the idea.”

Carwood let out a little laugh.  “I think we’ll have time.”

Ron pulled him closer, having never let go of his hand, breathing in deeply.  Their shields were attempting to intermingle even then, their energies twisting around each other in a bid to bond.  It felt so intimate.

Not all Sentinel-Guide pairs were romantic in nature.  Plenty of them were platonic.  It was simply never surprising when a bonded pair took that turn.  After all, having your very souls bound together tended to change a relationship.

“What are your senses?” Carwood asked, voice pitched low.  Any louder and he feared to break the moment.

“All but taste.”

A four-sense Sentinel?  That was slightly intimidating.

Carwood’s fingers slipped under Ron’s sleeve, wrapping around his wrist.  His thumb rubbed circles at Ron’s pulse point.  The Sentinel practically melted and to Carwood it was rather endearing.

“Wish I could offer more,” Carwood murmured, body pressing against Ron’s while he pushed warmth through their connection.

Ron let out a little breath, turning his head to press their foreheads together.  “Soon.”

“Soon,” Carwood agreed.

Reluctantly, Ron broke their contact.  “You should get back to your men.  They’ll need you.”

Carwood nodded, not sure what to say.

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”  The words caught in his throat, every step he took away from Ron more painful than the last.

* * *

Being separated from his Sentinel was something akin to Hell.  Carwood spent a lot of time with the pack.  Fellow Guides Roe and Webster were generous with their time, trading energy with him and making him feel more stable.  Helping out the Sentinels had always made him feel good, and it was no different now.  It was the quiet time between that bothered him.

Ron had visited him in the hospital after returning from Normandy.  Carwood thought he would be smothered, the Sentinel all but refusing to let go of him - he even growled at one of the nurses that attempted to come over.  Carwood had managed to soothe him though and he didn’t ask how Ron was able to keep coming to spend time with him.

Likewise, despite Easy and Dog having their own missions - which took them apart sometimes - Ron would always find him immediately upon return.  Carwood supposed that being an officer had its perks, though he worried that Ron would get in trouble.  Voicing such concerns were met with assurances that he shouldn’t worry.

Carwood knew Ron wanted to bond.  So did Carwood for that matter.  The problem was that if they went through with the bonding, there was no way they could continue to serve in different companies.  The separation would likely kill them - especially at such an early stage of bonding.

Ron was needed with Dog and Carwood couldn’t leave Easy in good conscious - not even for his Sentinel.  They were at an impasse.

That meant they had to be content with their sporadic visits and letters.  At least for now.

Bastogne changed everything.  Carwood watched helplessly as Sentinels slipped in and out of feral states, as Guides were killed and Sentinels injured, as the Sentinels blamed themselves if their dwindling number of Guides got so much as a splinter.

Stuck in that winter Hell, Ron would make his way over to Easy’s lines at least every few days.  They would spend time curled together in a foxhole, sharing warmth and trading energy.  There wasn’t much to talk about - nothing either of them wanted to address at least.

It wouldn’t be until Foy that their situation would drastically change.

“You’re insane,” Carwood declared as soon as Foy had been won, fingers curling into Ron’s jacket.

Ron had the nerve to grin at him.

Carwood huffed, pushing him away.  Before he could walk, Ron’s fingers caught around his wrist.  The now familiar flood of energy filled him and he couldn’t help but smile.  He turned back to look at Ron.

“I love you, Carwood,” Ron said.

Carwood blinked, looking stupidly at the Sentinel a moment.  Finally a grin crossed his face.  “I love you too.”

Ron stepped forward, pressing their lips together in a brief kiss.

“Speirs.”  They broke apart to find Winters and Nixon standing there.  “Can I speak to you a moment?” Winters asked.

Ron squeezed Carwood’s wrist, giving him a little smile, before following the Alpha pair.  While Carwood was glad Winters and Nix had finally come to their senses - seeing what everyone else in the pack had known since Toccoa - and bonded, Carwood could admit to being a little jealous.

* * *

As it turned out, Ron was given command of Easy Company.  They took a few more towns before finally settling in at a monastery.  They were set to return to Mourmelon in the morning.  For the night, they were finally with a roof over their heads for the first time in, well…  Carwood was just happy to be warm again.

“We should have a break now,” Carwood mentioned, attempting to sound casual.

Ron looked up from the company roster Carwood had made up.  “We should,” Ron agreed, fishing.

Carwood leaned in, deciding not to beat around the bush.  “I want to bond.”  Ron met his gaze.  “There’s no reason not to now.  We’re in the same company.  We’ll be together from here on.”

“We will,” Ron confirmed, hesitating.  He glanced around the room before looking back at Carwood.  “Why the rush?”

“Why not?”

“I wanted to take you to Paris.  Or anywhere really.  Nixon would get us a pass.  You know he would be able to.”  Ron took his hand.  “I want us to take our time.  I want to spoil you, Carwood.”

Carwood smiled, feeling his face heat.  “We can always do that after we get back,” he reasoned.  “I just…  We’ve waited so long, Ron.  I want us to be whole.”

Ron caved at that, nodding after a moment.  “Alright.”  He folded up the paperwork, putting it in a jacket pocket.  He started to gather up his gear.  “Let’s go find somewhere private.”

Carwood snagged his own things, following his Sentinel out of the church, literally sniffing out a destination.

Ron led them to a small office.  He lit a candle on the desk - likely for Carwood’s benefit - before taking a blanket from his pack.  “Lock the door,” he instructed, laying the blanket on the floor.  Secure in the knowledge they wouldn’t be interrupted, Carwood joined Ron on the blanket, gear tossed aside.

They stared at each other for a long time, Carwood feeling a flush in his cheeks.  He realized that perhaps Ron had zoned, fallen too far into one of his senses.  But when Carwood laid a hand on his arm, Ron gasped.

Ron closed the space between them in a blink, capturing Carwood’s lips in an all-consuming kiss.  Their energies tangled together, insistent in their plea.  Carwood gasped into Ron’s mouth, “Please.”

“Bond us,” Ron breathed.

Carwood’s eyes fell shut and he sank into the sensation of his Sentinel.  He followed the threads, reaching into Ron’s soul.  It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  During training when he was young, Carwood learned about bonding, but their description seemed to fall short of reality.

Carwood reached that last bit, embracing the bright light of Ron’s core.  Suddenly their souls slammed together, twisting and binding, and leaving them breathless.

There was a steady thrum of energy when Carwood opened his eyes.  He must have blacked out for a time because he was lying on the blanket, Ron wrapped around him protectively.

“Carwood?” he whispered.

Carwood gave him a little squeeze.  “Fine.”  He grinned as he pressed his face into the crook of Ron’s neck.  “Better than fine actually.”

He could feel Ron’s smile against his cheek.  “Rest,” he urged.  “I’ll be right here.”

Carwood hummed an agreement.  He brushed a kiss to Ron’s lips before snuggling closer.  Ron’s energy wrapped around him like a blanket, cradling Carwood as he drifted down into sleep, secure in the knowledge that Ron was his - a guiding light in any darkness that would come.

/End

**Author's Note:**

> The character of DiMarzio is based on the real Art DiMarzio who was a Private in Dog Company that served under Speirs. I'm not sure that he was at Brecourt, but he was in Normandy and was even witness to the infamous "Speirs shooting one of his Sgt's" incident ([which you can read the truth about here](http://www.ronaldspeirs.com/reputation/controversies/), if you haven't heard my ramblings about it before). But it seems a lot of the stories about Speirs, while in D Company, contain DiMarzio in them too, so I decided to include him here.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://thedenofcaseywolfe.tumblr.com/).


End file.
